Sword of the Raven (10 page)

She resisted losing consciousness.
Leave him alone! Do your Death Angel thing and just take me.

Rowan’s liquid jade gaze caressed, comforted.
I’m no angel, sweetheart, and you’ll not die on my watch. But it’s best you don’t see this. Go to sleep.

Screw.
She concentrated, pushed back at him with every feeble resource.
You.

His quick smile flashed.
I doubt you’re up for that sort of strenuous workout.

Great, she’d gotten a smart-assed celestial being.

Rowan raised his head to tilt a dark brow at Archer. “‘Tis as much as can be done to jumpstart the process. She’ll hold.”

Archer studied her. “Are you hurting, Delaney?”

Warm waves of Rowan’s Power muffled the jackhammering pain. Weightless, floaty, and as giddy as when she’d taken Percocet after having her wisdom teeth pulled, she offered a slight headshake.

“I’m more than capable of satisfying all her needs, Guardian.” As Rowan stood, his complexion paled, and he staggered. Was energy transfusion like a blood transfusion—had he given her too much?

Archer surged to his full height. “Prove it.”

The men faced off, antagonism snapping between them. Archer offered a curt nod. “Greetings, Enforcer. I thought I sensed you before, but you shield like a sonofabitch.”

“Greetings, Guardian.” Rowan nodded back, menace in every lithe motion. “Rowan MacLachlan, Chieftain, Clan MacLachlan.”

What the—? What’s with the Enforcer/Guardian thing?

“I know of you, MacLachlan. I heard you’d been offed. By a woman.”

“I’d have that hearing checked.” Rowan’s lip curled. “I don’t know you.”

Archer nodded again. “Archer.”

“Your name isn’t in the Legion.”

“No. Yet I’m Oathed to Delaney. Very obliging of you to lead me to her.”

“Not on purpose,” Rowan intoned dryly. “She survived her quest. You know what that means. She’s mine now.”

Yours? Think again!

“Not unless you can take her from me,” Archer insisted.

The buff Scot assessed his equally matched adversary. “Don’t make the mistake of believing I won’t.”

Archer laced his fingers together, cracked his knuckles. “So, we’re gonna do this.”

“Aye.” Rowan’s feral smile sent fear quaking up her spine. “That we are.”

Stop!
Delaney transmitted with every ounce of strength she had left.
Back off, MacLachlan!

The time for talking is past, lass.
The solid
thunk
of a mental barrier slammed between them.

Rowan shrugged off his black duster, and it floated to the pavement. When he tugged a gun from his back waistband, she tried to scream a warning, but he merely dropped it onto the coat. Then he squared off in front of Archer. “Let’s have a go at it, mate.”

“What’ve you got?”

Rowan thrust his right hand skyward.
“Ni Dìobair!”
Out of thin air, he drew a long, clear sword. Mist curled around the coldly glittering weapon, entirely made of…ice?

“Excellent.” Archer grabbed the neck of his tank top and ripped it in half, tossed it to the ground. Both hands shot up over his shoulders and from behind his bare back, he brandished two wickedly curved knives. He rolled his shoulders, grimaced, and then…

Holy, holy crap!

Archer had
wings.
A huge expanse of gleaming brown and cream feathers ruffled out around him, like an immense hawk.

The left wing, on the same side as his tattoo, was bent and twisted. It’d been broken and never healed correctly.

Archer was an angel, too? Her guardian angel, trying to stop Death from taking her?

“Ah.” Rowan’s glance locked on the misshapen wing. “And now I know
your
story. Changed your name, did you? Don’t blame you there.”

“You gonna use that nancy blade?” Archer snarled. “Or just talk me to death?”

Almost faster than she could track, Rowan lunged, his sword hissing a murderous arc at Archer’s throat.

Archer dodged and swung both massive arms. One knife clanged on Rowan’s sword, then the other. Lightning bolts erupted from the crossed knives, knocking aside the sword’s blade.

Rowan pivoted, attacked again. Archer parried, drove him back, and the sword of ice clashed with knives of fire.

Delaney lay quivering with helpless anger and fear as the men spun and twirled in the terrifying dance.

Archer gained the advantage, pushing Rowan faster, farther to the rooftop’s edge. Mixed emotions wrenched her. Of course she wanted Archer to win. But for reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely, she couldn’t bear to see either of them hurt.

Archer’s blazing knife missed Rowan’s jugular by a fraction, and she flinched.
Or worse.

Rowan stepped into Archer’s relentless attack, his sword-tip grazing Archer’s lean abs. A crimson line bloomed and Archer sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“First blood.” Rowan retreated. “Satisfied?”

Archer snorted. “Satisfaction is a whole different game. No quarter, Enforcer.”

Rowan bared his teeth in that primal, scary smile. “None given then.”

Time sped up as the battle grew vicious. Too many bloodied wounds welled on both grimly determined warriors.

Cold dread seeped into Delaney. This couldn’t end well.

And she couldn’t stop them.

Archer struck a blow to Rowan’s side, tearing another scarlet slash among dozens in Rowan’s black T-shirt.

Rowan tripped, swore. He straightened, then stabbed his sword into the sky and shouted. Thunder roared overhead, and a sudden, brutal lash of rain slapped Archer backward. Needles of ice sheeted down…assaulting only Archer. He jerked up his forearm to shield his eyes.

Rowan launched a merciless offense. Archer was forced to retreat until he was trapped against the wall. Hammered by icy missiles, he deflected blow after blow.

Delaney’s horrified gaze saw Archer’s vulnerable, unprotected ribs at the same instant Rowan did.

She gasped.
No!

Rowan’s gleaming blade speared in for the kill. Archer pumped his wings and shot upward, landing on the pedestal in front of the enormous lighted cross. Rowan’s blade whistled through empty space. But Archer’s bad wing obviously unbalanced him, because he listed sharply, nearly fell.

Then everything shifted into slow motion.

A teetering moment as Archer’s arms flung wide to regain his balance—

All Rowan needed.

He shouted again. The ice storming Archer liquefied to torrential rain. Rowan’s arm recoiled. He threw his sword—and the flashing prism arrowed straight toward Archer’s heart.

Chapter 6

Delaney’s scream locked in her throat. She couldn’t bear to watch. Couldn’t tear her gaze away.

A millisecond before the death blow, Archer threw himself off the pedestal, tucked and rolled onto the drenched rooftop. He came up on his knees, soaking wet. At the same instant Rowan’s sword pierced the center of the cross. The cross exploded in a flurry of sparks, shaking the building. Sizzling wires whipped around the metal frame, struck the puddle of water where Archer knelt. Neon voltage arced around him, through him, his features locked in a grimace, muscles convulsing.

With a loud pop, the lights went dark.

Archer’s limp body slumped to the asphalt.

Oh, Archer!
Singed flesh and feathers smoked the air, stung Delaney’s nostrils. Smothering grief weighted her chest. She was having trouble breathing again…and didn’t care.

She closed her eyes. She’d lost both her brothers tonight.

After a few minutes of awful scraping noises, approaching footsteps made her snap her eyes open.

Rowan knelt at her side. Every bloody wound he bore wasn’t nearly enough to compensate for slaughtering Archer. “How’re you doing, lass?”

She was shaking uncontrollably.
Get away from me, you murderer!

He reclaimed his gun, then snagged his coat from the ground and draped it over her. “I’m one of the good guys, Delaney. Eating electricity is fun and games for Guardians. He’ll live.”

When I can get up, I’m going to personally strangle the last lying breath out of you!

“I promise, by morning he’ll be right as rain. Torqued as all Hades at me, but…” He shrugged. “No quarter. His call.”

A shaft of doubt tripped her heartbeat.
If you don’t work for the “other side,” why did you fight him?

“The Guardian challenged me to prove I could defend you. I had to oblige.”

Is he really alive?

“Aye.” He thumped his fist to his heart. “I swear it.”

But you did try to kill him!

Rowan grinned. “If I’d truly wanted him dead, he’d
be
dead.”

What
are
you?

“I’m here to help you. I promise I’ll explain everything. Unfortunately, energy surges like this don’t go unnoticed. Let’s get you safely away and patched up, then we’ll talk.” Rowan tucked the coat beneath her. “I’m going to pick you up. Tell me if it hurts.”

I don’t want to go with you.

“I don’t recall taking a vote.”

I don’t like you. At all.

Aye, lass.
He didn’t speak aloud, but she heard him loud and clear.
And when I’m finished with you…you’ll likely hate me.

And didn’t
that
sound promising.
Which makes you different from every other man, how?

“Damnation,” he gritted.

If you don’t want me to tune in, hide your thoughts better.

“Duly warned.”

He lifted her in his arms, and she bit back a moan. His metaphysical painkiller was wearing off. She glanced around in panic at the empty rooftop as he strode toward the elevators.
Where’s Archer?

“I concealed him behind the chimney stacks. When he comes to, he’ll head home.”

I want to see him!

Rowan heaved a sigh, but carried her around the tall brick structures.

She stared at Archer’s battered body. His wings had disappeared, and to her surprised relief, the slashes in his skin had begun to heal.
We can’t just leave him exposed! If you’re really a good guy, prove it.

A second sigh. Rowan half turned, lifted his face to the sky. A tremor vibrated through him.
“Sòlasaich,”
he whispered.

A blanket of mist floated down, enveloped Archer. He stirred, smiled, and the sun tattoo on his shoulder blade rose and fell with his contented breaths. The mist thickened, cloaking him from view.

“There you have it. He’s as comfy and protected as a wee bairn rocked in his mum’s arms.”

Seriously, how do you do that?

“If you truly wish to know, shut it and let me concentrate on getting you out of here. You must trust me.”

Arrogant bastard. Like I have a choice?

Laughter rumbled in his chest. He stopped in front of the elevators to push the button. “Lass, if I wanted to harm you, I’ve had half a dozen opportunities.”

True. And he
had
assisted her in the police station, and kept her out of jail afterward. And spared Archer’s life. In spite of everything, totally against all logic, her intuition urged her to trust him.

Rowan, did Connor’s window break? Is he okay?

“Nothing happened to his window. His condition is unchanged, and stable.”

So she
had
hallucinated the reunion in Hell.

The elevator bell pinged. “Quiet now.”

Another tremor rocked Rowan’s big frame.
“Fair mo cleòc,”
he murmured. As the doors slid open, thick fog swirled, cocooned them. Fog was normally chilly, but this felt warm and secure.
Don’t speak until I say we’re clear.

I can’t talk anyway.

Common after an initiation quest.
Rowan looked down at her, his irises jade ringed by silver.
A blessing in disguise, aye?

If I ever cook for you again, you’d be wise to hire a food taster.

Another chuckle. The doors trundled shut.
Absolute silence. Don’t channel thoughts to me, either.

Delaney’s vision couldn’t penetrate the veil. Rowan must have been able to see fine, because he didn’t falter. But apparently nobody could see in. They were alone inside a silent white cloud. Not one person challenged them while Rowan brought her down the elevators, carried her through the hospital and then into the parking garage.

In the parking structure, he paused. The fog billowed out to encompass her GTO, left where Archer had parked it when they’d raced here to see Connor.
All right, ‘tis safe to communicate this way.

I don’t have my purse, or my keys. How are you going to drive? You
can
drive, right?

He rolled his eyes.
Your car is perfectly safe in my hands, as are you. Your purse was in Connor’s room. ‘Tis locked in the boot. Archer had your keys, which I confiscated.

Why can’t you just beam us wherever we’re going, Scotty?

He snorted. Holding her with his left arm, he fished in his pocket for the keys.
You must be feeling better.

Mostly, she was just trying not to freak out or whine like a baby.
Not exactly. But I want answers.

And you’ll get them.
Rowan opened the door and settled her into the backseat. Though he’d laid her down, he pulled a seatbelt across her anyway, and buckled it before covering her with his coat. Sympathetic gray eyes assessed her.
I’ve been where you are. I know ‘tis not comfortable. The best thing for you is sleep.

Dozens of questions shrilled in her mind, but she hurt too much.
Uncomfortable? The understatement of the millennium.

I can fix it. Large, capable hands cradled her face.

She tensed.

Don’t fight me. When you wake up, you’ll be healed.

Surrendering control went against every instinct. But she was growing weaker by the moment.
Don’t think for a hot second that letting you take over will become a habit.

I’m not the delusional one here. Now, relax, and let me work.

Her final sight before she slipped under was green ocean waves filling Rowan’s irises…and his tender smile.
Trom-shuain, Delaney. Sleep sweet.

* * *

Delaney jerked awake when the car stopped.

Cold. Hurt.

Rowan’s coat still blanketed her and heat whooshed from the air vents, but icy pain gripped her in unrelenting claws.

Rowan had claimed she’d be healed after she slept. Had he lied so she wouldn’t resist when he’d spirited her away? Not that she could’ve. Limbs shaking, teeth chattering, she tried to discern their location. All she saw outside the rear windshield was absolute darkness.

The door swung wide. Rowan’s blurry face swam into the murky dome light.
“Hullo,
you’re awake.”

When she didn’t respond, his eyes narrowed. “Delaney?” The back of his hand tested her cheek, then her forehead. “You’re hypothermic!”

Spasms twisted her muscles.
Don’t! It hurts when you touch me!

He frowned. “You should be back to normal. I’ve got to get you inside.”

He lifted her gently, but pain knifed through her. She swallowed a whimper.

“Hold fast, luv.” His long legs ate up the distance to what she vaguely recognized as Archer’s Cape Hope cabin. He whisked her indoors and lowered her to the sofa, where she lay shaking uncontrollably.

Rowan tossed a fleece throw over her and squatted to her level. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Fr-freezing. A-agony.

“I’ve never seen this reaction to a quest before. Was your essence attacked? Did you encounter a malignant spell?”

D-don’t know w-what you m-mean.

His frown deepened. “When you were out of body, did you get the sensation of disconnection, anything severing your essence from your body?”

D-didn’t leave m-my body. Mugged. Dreamed I went w-where everything was b-burnt. Ashes. Monsters.

“You couldn’t have—” He shook his head. “But you were somehow wounded?”

Y-yes! Stinger!

“A stinger?”

In the n-nightmare, a s-scorpion monster. Stung me. Thigh.

“Impossible.” Scowling, he rose over her. “Right, let’s have a look at your leg, then.”

He shoved aside the blanket. Eased off her hiking boots and socks. Gentle fingers unsnapped, unzipped her jeans, and slid them off. But
oh, God,
she was super-sensitized. The denim scraped like razors shredding her skin.
Hurts!

“Sor—” His gaze locked on her thigh.
“Bugger all!
Where,
how
did you tangle with a Fomorian demon?” He scooped her up, jogged to the kitchen, then laid her on the table. “Gotta move fast.” A hiss, then a pop as he lit the gas range.

Demon?
What was he talking about? Her trip to Hell hadn’t actually happened.

Had it?

Rowan strode to the sofa. He returned with a pillow, which he settled beneath her head. Left again. Water rushed from the faucet.

Footsteps. He leaned over her. “The venom has been in your system far too long, and your bloodstream is infected. I can’t risk putting you out again, because I might not be able to bring you back.” His mouth pressed into a grim line. “I have to lance it.”

She gulped.
Lance?

“‘Tis the only way.” His eyes captured hers. “But I can dull the pain. Look at me.” Green overtook the silver in his irises. He murmured a quiet chant.

Nothing happened.

His brows furrowed. “You’re blocking me. Open up, let me in.”

Trying.

He bent closer, his sweet breath a whisper against her lips. “Relax. Everything’s all right. I’ll take care of you.” More chanting.

Still nothing.

“Delaney, we’re out of options. Just let me take you over.”

Terror, pain, disbelief, maybe the poison torturing her…whatever the reason, she couldn’t relinquish her will again.
C-can’t.

“This can’t wait.”

Just g-get it over with.

“Dammit!
If I had more time—” Rowan pivoted to hold something over the burner flame. He tried to hide it, but she saw anyway. A big, black, sharp knife. Her shaking ramped up along with her pulse.

Lowering the blade out of sight, he swiveled around to her. He slipped the handle of a wooden spoon between her teeth. “Bite down and inhale a slow, deep breath through your nose.”

She obeyed.

“Exhale hard. Good. Another, Delaney. And once more.”

On her third exhale, one sure hand vice-clamped her thigh, and the other unhesitatingly sliced her open.

Acid seared her leg, screamed up her entire right side. Her spine bowed off the table, a shriek boiling in her throat.

“Sorry. Jesus,
I’m so sorry, luv.”

Everything went dark.

When Delaney’s eyelids drifted up, she was still trembling in shock, and Rowan was carrying her into the bathroom. He must have removed her filthy sweater, because she was in her bra and panties. He glanced down, sweat beading his forehead and upper lip, concern shadowing his irises. “There’s my lass. Stay with me, now.”

Not. Going.
Her mental reply was weak, but resolute.
Anywhere.

“Feckin’ amen to that.” He growled something unintelligible. The overhead light and wall heater glowed on. The old-fashioned claw-footed tub drain snapped closed at the same time the window casing flew up.

Another snarled command. A pause…and then a narrow green-blue cascade of Pacific Ocean streamed through the open window and crashed into the huge tub.

She blinked. This was new.

Rowan spoke again. The window slammed shut. Steam began to skate over the water’s surface. She was jostled a bit as he toed off his boots, then he stepped into the tub fully clothed and sank down into the bath with her. Sitting behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned back, immersing Delaney neck-deep in blissfully hot water.

Was she imagining it, or was he also trembling?

Crooning softly, he glided his palms down her arms.

Ordinarily, close physical contact with a man—especially a near stranger—would roil her stomach and knot her muscles. But like before, peaceful lassitude enveloped her. She didn’t feel threatened in Rowan’s embrace. She felt safe.

Divine Powers at work?

Warm yellow light glowed from old-fashioned wall sconces on either side of the mirrored medicine cabinet and gilded the black and white tiled floor and sand-colored walls. Seawater lapped comfortingly over her skin. Eventually, her chills vanished. The agony in her leg eased. She sighed.